Finding a cure
by Mischief Mage
Summary: Eirika is on her deathbed with an illness that noone can diagnose and it seems the only cure is deep within enemy territory. In an attempt to save her, an infiltration party is organised to save the princess. FranzxAmelia.Rated for attempted gore
1. Milady's malady

**Mischief Mage: **Hey look, its the first non-specifically-humour fic that i've written ...how long? I dunno.

**Mildly Important: ** I haven't decided on the classes of everyone yet but i will decide as i go along. The classes i choose may not necessarily suggest what i think the best classes are but are just for the sake of plot devices.**  
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**Kinda Important:** The main pairing in this story is, FranzxAmelia although i also have TanaxEphraim, InnesxEirika, JoshuaxNatasha and a bunch of other ones all at various stages of their relationships. I also have FordexVanessa as this story runs parallel to my 'a painter and a portrait' fic although i do not refer to this fic at all in the other.**  
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**Kinda Important, but more important than the one that i just wrote...i think. Judge for yourselves: **Just so everyone knows when it's set, i think that i'm going to set it shortly after the battle at ...Neralas peak or something (you know, that place with all the gorgons eggs) so that you have all the characters, the conversation between Franz and Vanessa in my other fic is finished and they are in...or pretty close to Rausten.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Fire Emblem or any of the characters or places or weapons or enemies or concepts ...you get it. But i do own my own imagination and i am thus free to make use of any part of the fire emblem story which they have been woolly about. WOOLLINESS.

* * *

It had been more than five days since princess Eirika had left her bed. It had been the same length of time since Prince Ephraim had left her bedside. Prince Innes, too, hadn't yelled at … anyone, more than twice since her sickness; which, for him was like catching lockjaw and not speaking at all. He now sat beside his loved one's bedside, eye's rimmed with a pale red as he repeatedly rubbed them, unable to stem the flow of saline tears down his cheeks. His sister appeared at the opening of the tent nearly every ten minutes, face flushed with the effort of hoping. Seth, the silver knight had sustained numerous injuries during the few skirmishes that had occurred during the duration of his princess's ailment; his mind clearly far away in her tent, bent over her bed beside the two princes. 

The dry grassed scrunched pathetically under Franz's feet as he entered the royals' tent, his pale green eyes seemed to spark for a moment at what he believed to be an improvement in his leader's condition. The dribbles of sweat on her forehead were fewer in number and her cheeks were no longer flushed despite the growing cold as the sun sunk lower on its perch in the autumn sky. But as Lute stepped out past him, cloak swishing apologetically behind its sage master, he realised that it had been only a minor cooling charm that had caused Eirika's temperature to subside, a close relative to the Fimbulvetr spell. Almost as soon as the chilly reality settled upon Franz's mind like a light snow, Eirika began to shiver in her draining sleep. She shivered uncontrollably, her sickly pale skin seeming to shudder in disgust and her eyelids, dark as though bruised through numerous beatings squeezed shut. Franz knew that if she had awoken from her sleep which was no more restful than her fitful consciousness, her teal eyes would have been as a muddy pool, polluted by careless usage and retained within hoops of rose-red inflamed flesh.

As Natasha and Moulder pulled the sheets on the camp bed further up Eirika's neck, almost as weary as their patient, Innes noticed Franz standing as though in mourning.

'Anything?' he asked desperately.

Franz looked across to the corner of the tent, unable to meet the princes' eyes, Ephraim having just looked up from his sister's freezing face, brushing her sweat soaked fringe from her eyes.

'Nothing' he began in a deadened voice, 'the apothecary says that if none of the other remedies worked then there is nothing that he can do.'

Ephraim gripped his sister's bed sheet tightly as he said, 'But there must be other remedies, send the Pegasus knights out, there must be a cure somewhere on this blasted continent!'

Innes sighed, ignoring the chance to comment on Ephraim's irrationality as he often seemed to be doing recently.

'Ephraim, this close to Rausten, we are already in the medical capital of Magevel. Here, it takes requires a higher degree of education to become an apothecary than it takes to become a physician. L'arachel herself recommended that man that Franz went to. If he didn't have a cure that suited her symptoms, then there won't be one anywhere else.'

Ephraim tightened his grip on the bed sheet, his eyes screwed up, a tear slipping to the end of his nose as he bowed his head over his sister's body.

Franz thought that he could hear the prince of Renais whisper to himself, with a look almost of self-loathing, 'I'm sorry father, Eirika; I've failed you'

'Don't blame yourself Ephraim'

Franz turned to see Tana who had slid into the tent beside him with Joshua and L'arachel, unnoticed.

The lords joined their comrades by Eirika's bed. As he passed Franz, Joshua turned to him and whispered quickly, not wishing to wake the patient, 'Franz, come outside with me for a second, I have a job for you'

Standing a short way from the entrance of the tent, Joshua spoke in a quiet voice that was only just louder than a whisper.

'I need you to take someone and go into the village again. We need more spears, killer ones if you can, then, basic food stuffs and more blankets, also…' He drew nearer to Franz conspiratorially,_** '**_I want you to visit the village physician. No, I don't care that the apothecary couldn't do anything to help' he added upon Franz opening his mouth to protest. 'He's a friend of mine and I would trust him with my life. Even if he has no cure, I know that he will know something, even if he can help us to quell her symptoms. This quest is bigger than any of us Franz', the prince of Jehanna said, looking tired, 'As tragic the loss of Eirika would be, all will be lost if we don't defeat the darkness, so we need to know whether anything can be done so that, if all help is futile, then we must know it is so that we can direct all the energy lost through hoping to strive for what can be achieved.'

In order to stop Franz from telling him that they must not give up, Joshua thrust a brown satchel and a shred of paper in the young paladin's hands. 'Here's the money for the goods, and here's his address, his name is Hugh Largo. You might want to go soon, the fog's starting to thicken and be careful; I don't think that we've seen the last of those remnants from this morning.'

Then, after giving the silenced young man a clap on the shoulder, Joshua of Jehanna disappeared into Eirika's tent. Franz pocketed the satchel the address of Doctor Largo tucked within its leather folds and he began to trudge back to the circle of tents around a low fire which was the warriors' camp.

Eirika's sickness had thrown what seemed to be a blanket of enchantment over the entire troupe; Innes and Ephraim were silent and complying, Joshua was responsible and hushed, Tana's many bubbles seemed to have popped, L'arachel had toned down her proclamations of the end of darkness approaching to simple reassurances to the particularly upset that light would always triumph, as for all the other fighters, each took the change differently but there was not one who was not affected, even if they didn't show it.

As Franz approached the ring of tents, he realized that he would need to pick someone to go to the village with him. It was a simple enough decision, he would need someone on a horse for speed but not a Pegasus knight as there were numerous remnant archers hiding in the shadows of the trees that formed an long archway into village. Also, he knew who he wanted to take, but subtlety and the keen eye of Forde, his older and more teasing brother, might forbid it. So now it was simply a choice between Seth, his general and Forde himself. But Seth was stuck in a sort of limbo, unable to move any closer to his princess as his duty was in the protection of the camp, but unable to move any further away out of paralysing concern. So Franz approached his brother who was lounging on log by the fire with his rival and best friend, Kyle. His green eyes, so like those of Franz seemed to be focusing on some distant object.

'Brother' Franz said, jerking Forde from what was, judging by his disgruntled expression, happy daydream.

'Meh?' Forde said.

'Brother' Franz repeated, 'Joshua has asked me to go into the village, will you come with me?'

'Ummmmmm.' Forde bit his lip as he looked back in the direction that he had previously been staring.

Franz leapt at the opportunity to ditch his brother and appear blameless.

'But, if you don't want to, I could take someone else,' he said eagerly, 'Amelia is just as good a rider'

'Yeah, that would be great if you c-' Forde stopped abruptly and looked up at his brother shrewdly. 'Why Amelia?'

Franz blushed but luckily, the flush that had appeared in his cheeks were hidden by the firelight.

'Oh…umm…no reason, just, since you aren't coming and Seth won't go anywhere-' '

That's true' said Forde, looking pityingly at Seth who sat across from them, staring into the glowing coals of the fire, holding his face in his hands.

But after the three of them, (Kyle included) had stared sadly at Seth for a while, Franz caught Forde's eyes flick in what seemed to be his favourite direction, his eyes catching in the light and glinting. Franz stole a glance in the same direction.

'Forde…'

'Hmmm?'

'Have you been staring at Vanessa again?'

Forde replied in a cool voice 'No, why?' But Franz had seen his eyes widen for a split second and the way he had sat bolt-upright and looked in the exact opposite direction of the Frelian Knights had been a dead giveaway. However, had Franz failed to notice that, Kyle giving a snort into the mug of steaming liquid that he was drinking would have been a sufficient hint.

Forde gave Kyle a sharp rap on the back of the head with his palm, causing the green-themed paladin to spill the hot brown liquid onto his lap, which was followed by him cursing loudly. 'Well, have fun in the village with Amelia' Forde called to Franz's now retreating back, 'Show her the sights!'

Franz's cheeks flushed a brighter pink and he had to hide behind Artur's tent and compose himself before approaching Amelia herself. Although he and Amelia were already good friends and he could talk with her easily, there conversations usually left his heart galloping and with a sharp twitch in his arm which he couldn't explain.

He found her in the small clearing where they had had the skirmish earlier in the day, wandering around with Neimi, hunched over and picking up any arrows that might still be used and blissfully unaware of everything that had just passed. He strode over in what he hoped was the confident stride which he had often seen Forde use. Unbeknownst to him, coupled with his natural modesty, this walk made him look a bit like a tall green duck.

Amelia looked up as he approached and smiled at him.

'Hi there Franz'

'Hello, Amelia. Hey, Neimi'

'Hi Franz'

He really wished that Neimi wasn't there. Not that asking Amelia to go into the village with him for the purpose of safety was difficult, but he didn't like the feeling that he had a critic.

'Ummm…Amelia, I need to go into the village for uh…Joshua…and ummm…I need you to come with me- but only if you want to mind you…although I need to take someone with me and I uh…'He trailed off; knowing that he had messed that up like Forde used to mess up the playroom with his paints when they were little.

But Amelia seemed unaffected and smiled again at him. His heart poked its head up hopefully in the hope that she didn't think he was a twat.

'Sure' she said, 'I'll come' Franz inwardly sighed in relief.

'Great, well, you better gear up, I'll meet you on the road in ten' And so Franz scurried off towards his tent, trying to ignore Neimi's sudden fit of loud and badly suppressed giggles.

* * *


	2. Enigmatic Epidemic

**Mischief Mage:** Hmmm...this chapter's a bit longer than most chapters i write. I guess i got a little carried away.

* * *

Franz was waiting for Amelia by the time that she had strapped on her sword and picked up her lance and a knapsack. As she cantered closer, she noticed a frequent and violent twitch in his left arm. She'd ask him about it later. He looked up and smiled at her as she approached.

'Ready?' he asked, tightening the grip on his reins.

She nodded and so they set off at a trot together.

'So what is it that we need to do?' she asked him cheerfully.

'We're getting some more gear and I need to pop in to see a doctor that Joshua knows'

'Oh'

They were silent for a moment. Franz seemed exceedingly interested in his gloves.

Amelia ventured to ask.

'Franz, what's that twitch in your arm?'

Franz's eyes widened for a moment and he seemed flustered.

'Twitch? What twitch?'

In an attempt at a casual shrug just as the rebellious arm twitched again, Franz ended up jerking his horse's leather reins hard to the left, almost sending steed and rider off the road and into the pricker-bushes.

'That twitch.'

'It's nothing' said Franz, laughing bashfully, 'it's just a bit of nervousness'

'Oh I see.'

'Yeah.'

'So what is it that you're nervous about?'

Franz bit his lip for a short time before answering.

'Uh…oh…just, you know, this whole war and now Princess Eirika has fallen ill, its thrown the entire journey into confusion hasn't it?'

Amelia looked sadly ahead.

'Yes, I suppose you're right.'

Franz pressed on, Amelia was secretly pleased. War talk was a good emotional, sufficiently detached conversation topic that normally didn't lead to embarrassment of any sort.

'I mean, on one hand, we have the life of our leader' he continued, 'but in the other hand, we have the fate of the continent. I know that for those who don't know the princess, the decision is elementary, but I'm certain that the world would lose something which it could never regain if we gave up on her.'

Amelia gave a half-hearted laugh.

'I suppose that it's a shame that Prince Innes loves her.' she said in a monotone, 'This is probably when we most need a cool leader to make decisions.'

'Do _you_ think that we should give up on her?'

Amelia sighed, she didn't know what she was feeling more; enjoyment in his company or sadness at the circumstances.

'I believe that as long as there is uncertainty, there is always hope' she said after a short time, beginning slowly but growing more resolute as she finished.

Now it was Franz's turn to chuckle to himself.

'It's funny,' he said, 'I think that you hold exactly the same opinion as Joshua'

'Really?' she asked interestedly, looking across at him.

'Yeah, I think that's why we have to go see this doctor. To see whether anything _can_ be done so a decision can be made.'

Amelia paled as a thought occurred to her.

'But what will happen to Princess Eirika if there is nothing that can be done?'

Franz paused for a moment, speechless. Luckily for Amelia, she was interrupted from pondering any gruesome course of action which may result from 'giving up' on Eirika, by the gate keeper of the village of Brundi. The wrinkled pair of black eyes surveyed them for a moment through a rectangular peep-hole in the gate, looking them up and down, trying to see whether or not they were servants consisting of rotted flesh, reanimated for the purpose of causing general, low-grade destruction. Upon deciding that a handsome looking young-man and a pretty looking young-woman on two horses, both in armour that looked like it was polished every hour, on the hour were not remnants, he let them in.

Amelia tethered her horse beside Franz's a short distance from the gate and followed him towards a large open area of the village.

There were a large number of stalls around the edges of the square, all looking so drowsily bloated with produce which seemed odd at such a time. Only hours before supper, Amelia was used to market squares such as these bustling with panicked husbands trying to put together a meal for their families before the stalls closed at nightfall.

'It seems a bit…quiet, doesn't it?' Franz commented, voicing her thoughts.

'Yes…it's strange.'

'It was the same this morning, except possibly even quieter' he said, eyeing the few customers, there were no redeeming similarities between the consumers except that they seemed to be travelling individually. Franz and Amelia were the largest group that they could see.

Franz shook himself.

'Anyway, here' he counted out a number of coins and passed them to her. 'I'll go pick out some food, torches and blankets. You go and pick out some killer lances; four or five should be enough for the whole camp. I'll meet you back here when I'm done.'

Amelia stared at his back as he walked towards the food bazaar. She noticed that he had asked her to get the weapons as opposed to the food. She had become used to male chauvinism in the Grado army and, although there was less of it in Eirika's group, it managed to slide through the cracks in a few places. She was mainly thinking about the time that piles of dirty clothes had appeared outside the tent which Lute, Neimi and she had been sharing one night. Lute had set the culprits straight although she was also forced to buy the men new clothes after she had torched them. Lute had taken great enjoyment out of that.

But the point was that Franz had taken the food shopping, the stereotypically female role, upon himself. Now the only question was whether he did it deliberately. Then, it was a matter of whether he did it because he thought that he was better at buying bread or because he wanted to show her that he was not a male pig. But if he had done it deliberately then it was either because he thought that she was weak and needed to be shown that he respected her or because he was trying to impress her.

Amelia suddenly gasped and shook herself; reading too much into something as simple as that had to be saying something.

The man behind the counter in the armoury was hardly a man at all. He looked, at oldest, a year younger than Amelia. As he bustled about, looking for five killer lances for Amelia, appearing very new to the shelves and the cupboards, Amelia asked politely, 'Who owns this shop?'

The brown haired boy froze for a moment.

'My father'

He went back to pulling lances down and placing any killer ones on the counter.

'Do you work for him sometimes?'

The boy swallowed loudly.

'No, miss, I work here full time now.'

Amelia was taken aback.

'What? So, where is you're father now?'

'He's…gone'

Amelia blushed with shame.

'Oh, I'm so sorry.'

After a moment or two, as the boy quickly and silently polished the heads of the lances before bundling together with twine, Amelia said, 'If it makes you feel any better, my mother is gone too, I suppose that she must be dead too'

The boy grunted before saying in tone which was a mixture between sorrow and anger.

'He's not dead…well…he is dead…but- wait a minute.' He jerked his head up and looked her in the eye with the expression of someone not looking for hope but searching for a companion in misery.

'Did you lose your mother to the…you know?'

'The what?'

The boy's face fell.

'You're not from around here are you?' His tousled hair seemed to droop as she shook her head.

'Never mind then'

The two of them were silent as she passed over the money and he lifted the bundle of heavy lances into her arms. But as she side-stepped through the door to allow her burden through, she thought that she heard a faint sniff.

Amelia dawdled back through the square to where Franz was now standing, looking apologetic.

'I just realised' he said, scratching his head, 'we should have visited the Doctor first so that we didn't have to carry all this stuff about.' In his hands were two bags of groceries, torches and blankets.

'No problem' she replied, shifting the bundle so that she could hold it under arm with it resting on her hip.

'You alright with those?'

'Of course, are you alright with _those?_' she hit back playfully, eyeing the grocery bags.

Franz laughed; the stall owners and their few sad-faced customers turned at the noise as though it was unknown to them.

So, picking up their purchases, the two of them trudged down several side streets before coming to a large town house. Knocking on the door, Franz was met by an old but not so vulnerable looking landlady with a large ring of keys tied to a dirty blue ribbon around her waist.

'I'm looking for the residence of Doctor Hugh Largo, ma'am.' Franz said politely and with a certain charming humility which made him look very gentlemanly in Amelia's eyes. She inwardly kicked herself.

The woman silently beckoned to them and led them up a stair case with more than one rotted stair, as Amelia discovered.

Once on the second level, the woman gestured towards the end of a dingy looking corridor before retreating back down the stairs, hopping over the hole which Amelia's leg had made in the sixth step.

'Hey Amelia?'

'Hmm?'

'Could you uhhh…grab the address out of the satchel please, if I put these bags down then we'll be wading in a sea of rolling fruits.'

'Sure.'

Amelia bent down and with her free hand she managed to retrieve the torn paper from the leather bag which was hanging around his waist. She avoided touching him more than was strictly necessary as a little voice in the space just between her eyes told her that extended touch was a bad thing. She had no idea why but she saw no reason to doubt the little voice. It also happened to be the little voice that told her that, upon Franz first meeting Amelia, that she should not tell him exactly how dashing she thought he looked at _that _moment, in _that _armour, on _that_ horse, with _that _lance, with the sun just _there _causing a back lit effect, glinting off his breast plate.

'He lives at number nineteen' she said, reading off the scrap of paper and pointing towards the end of the dim, dusty, damp corridor.

Noting the tarnished gold plated numbers on the doors which looked as though they had come off worse in a fight with the butcher, they waddled up to nineteen, well…Franz waddled, carrying his two heavy bags.

Fifteen…sixteen…seventeen…the number eighteen had a cobweb spanning across it like a fisherman's net, a large, fat spider nestled happily in it's nest of legs in the bottom dip of the eight.

Nineteen. The rather tragic golden numbers failed to glint in the light of the setting sun, namely because they were under a piece of paper which was tacked to the door with a rather well placed dagger.

'What does it say?' asked Amelia from behind Franz who was peering at the large but roughly scrawled writing.

Franz read aloud:

'I, Sergeant Haggard of the third Regiment based in Rausten, have been bade by the Empire of Grado to search and destroy a Doctor Hugh Largo for crimes of treason against His Excellency the Emperor Vigarde himself and his empire by any means necessary. The criminal in question has been removed from this residence and has been executed by drowning as is the custom. This residence is under ownership of His Excellency the Emperor Vigarde until further notice and is not to be trespassed upon by pain of death.' The writing was followed by a scrawled signature and the seal of the Empire.

Franz pushed the door open, the hinges creaking almost as an alarm to Sergeant Haggard. Amelia stood up on her toes to see over his shoulder and gasped at what she saw.

The curtains had been torn from the windows, shreds of them hanging like a shed skin in the corners of the rooms. Scorch marks on the wooden floor showed where a torch had been dropped in what seemed to have been a midnight invasion. There was a single bed with sheets twisted from their occupant trying to escape his attackers. Slash marks and trails of dried burgundy flowed down the side of the mattress like intertwining frozen rivers stained with blood. The doors on the shelf of medicines had been thrown open, one of the doors hanging on a single hinge. Half of the shelf's contents lay shattered on the floor, some glowing red like stolen rubies where a bare-footed resident being marched from the room, beaten and bruised, would have walked. The drawers had been pulled from the dresser and thrown to the ground; some of the soldiers had obviously felt obliged to confiscate any gold the doctor had had. But perhaps what were most haunting were the blood-stained scalpels and tweezers that littered the floor as well as others of the doctor's instruments. It seemed that the instruments of healing had been turned against the wielder and had led the man towards and over the threshold which no medicine could breach.

Amelia made an indistinct noise and the back of her throat and grabbed Franz's arm, the lances falling to the ground with a metallic clatter that still managed to echo in the damp corridor. She could take the remains of battle grounds and killing was no longer a big deal to her…except…this wasn't a battle. Battles are constituted of fights between any number of sides. But this hadn't been a fight. It had been a directed, planned bludgeoning.

'I don't understand' she whispered, almost in a moan, 'What could a doctor do to affect Grado? Why would they follow him all the way out to Rausten? Why did they see him as a threat?'

Franz took several deep breaths before saying that he didn't know. Having put down his bags, oranges rolling in all directions, he squeezed her arm reassuringly but as he pushed the creaking door further aside to step inside, she saw that his arm was shaking.

Amelia followed him in and reluctantly released his arm to go to the window, inspecting the torn curtains. Faint red splotches caught her eye. Her face was nearly an inch away from the remains of the shreds of faded pink material which were fluttering in the wind of the open window. She drew back suddenly when she discovered bloody red finger prints. Red hand prints were found on the window sill. It seemed as though Doctor Hugo had made a bid for freedom during the attack.

'Hey Amelia, take a look at this'

Having adjusted to the intense silence Amelia actually jumped at the sound of his voice.

'What is it?' she asked, drawing nearer to him. He was crouched down over the shattered glass medicine vials.

'Take a look at the shelf' he said quietly.

Amelia did a quick eye-flick up and down. She didn't know much about medicine and the language on some of the labels was unknown to her. Sludgy brown gunk floated in an oily pale brown liquid, milky white fluid clung to the sides of glass, there were even vials of some blue stuff which was giving off a pale light.

'What about it?'

'There aren't any vials of the stuff from the bottom left compartment.'

'What does that mean? They were probably all knocked off'

'I don't think so, look here.' Franz showed her several sodden labels. I've counted the labels and accounted for anything else knocked off. There aren't any labels that match the one on that compartment but there are the remains of a purple fluid here that I can't find in any of the other vials'

Surveying the ground, she saw that he was right. In the freakish rainbow whirlpool there was a purple colour which she hadn't seen any trace of on the shelves.

'Could…could that be what they really came for? Do you think that they wanted it?' she asked in a whisper.

'I don't know. I think that they would have been more careful with it if they wanted to use it. I think it was a bit like…uh…you know…a drug bust'

Amelia peered at the label for the missing vials on the shelf.

"_Drothsleh Triscert _" she read aloud, forehead wrinkled in trying to pronounce the words unknown to her.

'That was two long words that I didn't understand anything of' said Franz from the floor, sucking a finger which he had just cut on a shard of glass.

'It's clearly a medicine for something,' Amelia said, peering at the few labels which were in the common tongue, 'Look at these other ones: "Hellfang poison antidote", "Draught of sleep counter fluid", "Stone vaccine". Where could he have gotten these? They must be extremely rare.'

Franz seemed to have just thought of something. He was dragging the remains of a torch through the pool of medicine absent-mindedly, the trail refilling with a chaotic mosaic of colour as the wood slid away.

'All those medicines' he began, haltingly as though still trying on the theory in his mind, 'they're all related to the sicknesses caused by the creatures that have been spawned from the darkness right?'

Amelia nodded, waiting for him to continue.

'So, that medicine that those soldiers were after…it must cure or prevent an ailment that's arisen from the presence of all those remnants. But, they didn't bother with any other medicine that would cure something like stone or poison so this one sickness must hold greater importance to them.'

Amelia looked out towards the door where the notice of the Doctor's arrest was posted. It fluttered in the wind flowing in from the open window.

'But what sickness?' she wondered.

* * *

**Mischief Mage: **I should be able to get the next chapter out soon. I'm on school holidays for a bit longer. But then i have exams so all writing will basically stop for a month and a half. sniff 


	3. Departure at Dusk

**Mischief Mage: **Yay...chapter 3. Enjoy it...the next one won't be out for a while...(and if it is you know that i'm skiving off my study). Also, i apologise for my alliteration titles, it's what happens when i can't think of anything better.

* * *

Having scrawled down the name of the mystery medicine and left the town house, trying to ignore the shrewd, piercing gaze of the land lady as she watched them from the door, Franz and Amelia, with their purchases, returned to their steeds. The fog had thickened, the silvery grey mist hanging in the air like a malignant gas. After freeing their horses from the rough ropes, Franz deposited the groceries in his saddle bags while Amelia laid the killer lances across her lap underneath the reins. 

Squinting through the fog, Franz could make out a huge crowd of men by the gate, torches glowing hauntingly in the dim light. Making their way over, they found that half of the men were reinforcing the gate with planks of wood that looked like it had been torn directly from the bodies of the stalls. Meanwhile, the other half stood amongst the workers, holding shields over their own heads and the sweating bodies of their comrades. The reason for this became evident as there was a whistling in the damp air. No fewer than five javelins and ten arrows clattered down on the shields and were deflected onto the cobblestones.

A javelin skittered across the ground and came to rest at the feet of Franz's horse which turned this way and that, eyes wide in fear. Amelia's steed, which had had no such fright was also jittery, looking like it might bolt in any moment. But Amelia hadn't seemed to have noticed this. She called out to a figure beneath a shield who was nailing at a particularly mediocre lump of wood with a look of determination. He looked up at the sound of her voice and scurried over, weaving between the clamour of bodies.

'Who's that?' Franz asked Amelia as the boy approached, tufts of his hair plastered flat on his head in the wet.

'He works at the armoury.'

The young armourer stopped before the horses, panting.

'You're that lady from about an hour ago. Right?' he asked after catching his breath.

Amelia nodded.

'This is a friend of mine,' she told him, gesturing briefly to Franz, 'What's going on?'

Franz saw his eyes widen slightly in disbelief.

'You mean you don't know? Oh wait…you're not from around here. Well…those monsters are trying to break into the village again. This is the fourth time that we've had to reinforce the wall now because people need to get in and out during the day.'

'But that doesn't make sense' Franz said, confused. The boy turned to him for the first time. Franz could see the kind of instant respect that comes with wearing armour and carrying a formidable lance around all the time.

He continued: 'A village this side can't afford to have only one entrance. Why don't they come in any of the back routes?'

The figure before him shook his head and told him that most of their enemies consisted of a few bone-walkers, entombed and revenants. He went on to say that just because they had magically reanimated flesh didn't make them clever; besides, there were door keepers at the one other entrance that could raise the alarm.

Amelia seemed to be battling with an idea.

'Do you…'she began hesitantly, glancing across to Franz nervously, 'do you need our help?'

Franz knew that Amelia knew that helping the villagers would stop them from returning to camp that night. In camp, once night had fallen, patrols of entombed had been seen and heard shuffling around in the autumn leaves, just beyond the firelight which they maintained throughout the night. Two paladins alone on that treacherous road at night were just asking to be torn limb from limb.

But it was their duty to assist those under siege by the servants of darkness which, in this case, were right at the village's doorstep. So Franz nodded to Amelia who looked relieved at his compliance.

However, the brown head shook itself.

'We can handle it. We've held them off three nights in a row so far and we'll do it again.' His eyes were shining with a kind of pride for his stalwart Brundi.

'Then who's that down there?' asked Franz in an accusing voice which he hadn't intended. He was pointing at a pair of feet of a someone who was obviously lying down amongst the feet of those who were vertical.

The boy whirled around, saw where Franz had been pointing and whirled back.

'That's the gate keeper' he said looking away to the side, 'they got him with a knife through the peep hole when he opened it to see who was there.'

Franz remembered that pair of ebony eyes looking them up and down from that little window in the wood and the thought of a dagger being thrust into them made him wince.

'But the point is, thanks, but we can handle it. But' the fatherless young man added, eyeing their cargo, if you're staying out in the forest, you'll probably want to rent a room.'

Franz looked towards the sun, but, as it was so low in the sky, he couldn't even see it over the trees outside of the gate.

'We need to get back to camp Amelia, they need food, torches and more weapons unless if we want a weakened squad. If they're hit by a group the same size as this morning they'll need this stuff and our help. So-'

He turned to the boy who was suddenly looking afraid about something.

'Could you tell us the way out the back?'

The boy bit his lip.

'I …could…'cept…it's dangerous on that back road. Not as dangerous as the main road but…it will be if you don't get past it by nightfall.'

'Why's that?' Amelia was looking down at him with a mixture of concern and shrewdness.

But he only shook his head, dumb.

'Just ride swiftly, but carefully, light a torch and don't lose sight of each other.'

Franz and Amelia looked at each other in confusion, but nodded, he seemed keen to avoid the subject and to return to his fellow villagers.

The boy's body quaked a bit and he gulped, but he pointed out to them the way to the other side of village where there was a small gate and two gate keepers that would let them through. And with that, he spun on his heel and threw himself back into the mass of working bodies.

Almost as a mirror image to their acquaintance, the two turned their nervous steeds about and galloped through the fog and towards the village back-door.

The two baggy eyed gate-keepers gave no acknowledgement of Amelia and Franz going through the gate which was only a smaller clone of the main entrance, save a sort of half salute which reminded Franz of the ones that he had been forced to give when the casket of a Renais hero killed in action was passing.

Save the dense fog which could make the sun seem like an eerie, haunting flare, there didn't seem to be anything particularly amiss about the road except it was narrower than the main one. Franz, with a lighter load which had been made lighter still by him pulling out a torch and lighting it, rode in front, urging his horse faster as much as he dared in the poor visibility. With one hand gripping the reins and the other holding up the torch, he was able to see perhaps another metre in front of him, but really only ensured that, if there were any monsters out there, disguised by the shroud, they would find them very quickly.

After a short time of galloping along the road, making good time, a faint smell managed to find its way over the dampness and cause Franz to almost throw up. It was an insane mixture of the worst smells that Franz had ever encountered, faeces, dead bodies left in the sun, vomit, ancient urine and old, old sweat on a human body.

As Franz dry retched over his horse's mane, something ahead managed to spook the stallion and forced it to careen off the road, terrified. Shock over came the smell briefly, giving Franz a break from his heaving stomach to calm down his horse which was tossing its head, eyes rolling like wounded soldiers on a battle field who wanted only the mercy of a blade across their necks. But just as Franz had calmed his steed down sufficiently for it to begin returning to the road, he heard a sound which made his stomach plunge over a cliff face. A shocked scream reached his ears. Not so much a scream of terror, but more of a cry of shock at being caught off guard. Amelia.

He seized the reins and hauled his stallion around, speeding through the fog back to the road. Over the hooves clumping as they met the grass and then the mud road, Franz listened intently.

There was no sound. If the cry had been followed by a scream, it would mean that Amelia had met an enemy.

Silence meant that she couldn't scream.

Franz urged his horse even faster, ignoring the fact that he could only just see the ears on the brown head in front of him.

Once he felt the hard mud road under hoof, Franz slid off his horse and, holding the torch high over his head, he led it down the road calling Amelia's name.

After what seemed like an age, Franz spied a silhouette of a body on the ground.

'Amelia!'

Releasing the reins, he sprinted to her side and knelt down. But in the torch light he saw that the body, which was lying on its front, before him wasn't even wearing armour. He shook the body slightly before rolling the body over so that he could see the front. What he saw made him fall back, tasting bile rising at the back of his throat and beginning to dry retch again. It was undoubtedly a dead body. The maggots that crawled in and out of the holes in the dead woman's cheeks in the same way that fear could flow through every vein in a man's petrified body was testimony to that. Franz almost truly threw up as he saw a slight bulge moving along underneath the one un-rotted eyelid.

Before his stomach could catch up with what his eyes were seeing and the stench which had penetrated his nose, Franz leapt up and, as a slightly less dense patch of fog wafted by, he could see bodies strewn out over the road like the result of a massacre except minus the blood.

Franz became even more desperate in his search for Amelia. He peered into the face of every corpse, every rotting shell, only subconsciously noting that none of the bodies showed any sign of a wound.

Finally he came across four hooves which linked to four legs and finally, the body of a horse. And sticking out from beneath the unmoving body of the horse was-

'Amelia!' he cried for the umpteenth time that night.

The figure turned slightly at the sound of the name and, in the torch light, two large green eyes looked up at Franz in severe pain.

'My legs are shattered I think' she informed him as he looked her up and down.

Of course.

Franz veering off the road took their main source of light away, the sun now only a candle in a vast dungeon of mist. Franz's horse must have seen a body on the road ahead and gotten frightened. Without the light, Amelia's mare wouldn't have seen anything. It must have rolled, killing the horse but, amazingly, not the rider.

It had been Franz's fault, all his fault. If he had gotten a hold of himself instead of letting the smell get to him, he would have seen the corpse and could have warned her.

'I'm so sorry.' He whispered, tears beginning to well up in his eyes which he directed towards the brown coat of the now dead horse.

'It's alright Franz' she said, touching his hand, wincing in the effort. 'Besides,' she went on, 'I had a soft landing.' She gestured to a mattress of stinking bodies which she and her horse had added to. She giggled dryly. Franz was stunned, but he supposed that having every bone in your legs crushed would numb any sense of terror.

Franz knelt in apologetic silence for a few moments longer until Amelia pointed out that perhaps they should get back to camp before night fall which would bring innumerable enemies.

By using a maggoty but large log of wood, Franz was able to use one of the killer lances that Amelia had bought to lever the body of the horse off the pile of flesh just enough for Amelia to drag herself out by her hands, grimacing with every inch.

Franz found his horse. He strapped the half of the killer lances to one side of the saddle and the other half to the other, holding the last one in his hand. He slowly pulled Amelia up so that she could sit in front of him, legs hanging limply either side. He handed her the torch so that he could steer.

He flicked the reins and they set off at a gallop. Speed was vital even though Amelia almost passed out from the pain each time the hooves hit the ground. With each small, uncomplaining gasp she gave while she sat in front of him, kept from slipping over the side by his strong arms, Franz knew that he would never, ever let anything like that happen to her again.


End file.
